


Dirty Dancing for Dummies

by Malfoysdarkness



Category: X-Men: First Class (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dirty Dancing Fusion, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Charles is Baby, Dirty Dancing, Erik Being Cocky, Erik You Slut, Erik is Patrick Swayze, Honestly Charles What Are You Thinking, M/M, obviously
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:48:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23085760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malfoysdarkness/pseuds/Malfoysdarkness
Summary: On a dreaded holiday trip, Charles meets a mysterious German dancer, but they don't get along. Erik is too hot-headed, and Charles too calm. Can they work things out before Charles walks away for good?
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier, Hank McCoy/Raven | Mystique
Comments: 9
Kudos: 15





	1. Love is Strange

"Cheer up, Charles! You said you wanted a holiday." 

Charles closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against the window of the car. "When I said holiday, I didn't mean activity camp." 

Raven rolled her eyes, setting down her hand mirror after reapplying her lipstick. She always wore too much for her age, Charles thought, but he never voiced it. He knew it wasn't his place. 

"McTaggert is your father's friend. Of course we'd have to go eventually. Now, be nice Charles," Sharon Xavier added, glancing back at her children. Charles didn't reply, but gave a small nod. He didn't want to go, didn't want to have to put on his fake smile and laugh and unfunny things. He wanted to be at home, reading. 

"I can't wait to learn how to Tango. Do you think I could get a private instructor, mum?" Raven asked, leaning forward in her seat. Charles switched off as he gazed out the window, watching the greenery pass them by. He only focused again when they passed a large sign, telling them they had arrived.  _ McTaggert Summer Home _ . It sounded like somewhere old people went. 

Charles was right. When Brian Xavier drove down the long driveway to the house, Charles could see old folk milling around and engaging in activities. He fought the urge to groan again. How had he gotten roped into this? 

"Why did we have to come? Surely you could have gone on your own." 

Brian chuckled, parking the car alongside several others. "Because you are our children, and you must show a good example to Mr McTaggert." 

Raven gave Charles a triumphant grin and got out of the car, as the sunshine beat down on the grass. Charles knew the only reason she was so eager was that she wanted to find a 'summer love'. But of course, their parents would never let that happen. 

As Charles left the car, stretching his stiff limbs, an elderly man stepped over and shook his father's hand. "Brian! So good to see you again." 

"You too, Mike. How is the lung?" 

"Oh! All good now, thanks to you." 

Brian turned and gestured to his children, who were both hanging back. Raven's confidence had clearly burnt out already. Charles knew she had been expecting a more handsome host. 

"These are my children, Charles and Raven." 

Mike McTaggert shook each of their hands in turn, and squeezed Charles' shoulder. "Good to have another young man around the place! Oh, and you can get along with my granddaughter, Moira." 

Charles didn't want to get along with anyone, especially a girl he was  _ expected _ to be pleasant to. He didn't show any of his displeasure on his face, simply smiling and thanking the man for his generosity in letting them stay for free. Charles was good at talking to people, to make them feel like they were important. A trick he'd learnt from his mother. 

"It's no problem at all, my boy. Your father saved my life, there is nothing I wouldn't do for him and his family," Mr McTaggert slapped Charles' shoulder before pulling away to continue his conversation with Brian. Raven snorted as Charles rubbed his shoulder, wincing. 

"Can you get the bags, Charles?" Sharon gave him a sympathetic smile. She was the only one who understood him. Charles nodded, just to please her, and took their luggage from the trunk of the car, pushing it shut again with his knee. He was left struggling with the bags until one of the bellboys took a few suitcases from him. 

"Hank McCoy," the boy introduced with a slightly awkward smile. They shook hands between the bags and Charles knew they would get along. Hank looked as uncomfortable as him. 

"Charles Xavier." 

Hank nodded, as the two of them followed the Xaviers into their appointed holiday house. "The boss has talked non-stop about your family coming, for almost three weeks."

Charles gave a laugh, dumping a few of Raven's bags on her bed. He knew they mostly contained shoes, and a great number of dresses. More than the amount she would need for the entire holiday. 

"My parents were just the same. I, however, was not so impressed," Charles glanced at Hank, who set the rest of the luggage down with more care. "I hope I won't offend you." 

Hank shook his head, smiling. "Not at all. Not often do I get to talk to anyone my age."

Charles sat down on the largest suitcase. "Well, you're welcome to talk to me. It will be a relief from the dullness of this holiday." 

Hank laughed before the door opened and Raven entered. Charles straightened up as she raised her eyebrows, not-so-subtly looking Hank up and down. "What are you both doing in my room?" 

Charles rolled his eyes, standing up from the suitcase and following Hank towards the door. "Hank was just helping me with the cases. See you at dinner, Raven."

When the door was closed, Hank whistled. "Is she always like that?" 

Charles shrugged as they left the house. It was only mid afternoon, Charles didn't want to miss the sunshine. However much he didn't want to be there, he liked summer. "Since we were kids, but it's gotten worse since she became a teen." 

"Girls are strange at that age," Hank added, and a shout called him from the main house. He glanced up like a rabbit in headlights before giving Charles an apologetic smile. "I better go." 

Charles nodded. He knew Hank wouldn't be able to stay to talk with him, as the boy had a job to do, but it wouldn't make Charles any less lonely. 

He wandered up to the house, jogging up the front steps and walking along the veranda, his footsteps tapping out a rhythm. The other groups of elderly people had gone inside, leaving the near view almost completely deserted. Breathing out, Charles leant against the railings, the light breeze ruffling his hair. If he was to survive the next few weeks, Charles knew he would have to simply grit his teeth and get on with it. Smile through every dreaded samba lesson and every torturous game night. Most of Charles' days at school were more interesting than this. 

Breathing out slowly, Charles' ears pricked up as he heard muffled voices from a nearby closed door. Straightening up, Charles took a few quiet steps over to the door, pulling it open a few inches to peer inside. It was the main dining room and standing in the centre was Mr McTaggert, surrounded by all the waiters and bellboys, Hank included. 

"Entertain the old biddies and give the young girls a smile. Stay respectful and make sure they have a good time." 

The waiters mumbled their agreement, just as some more newcomers entered the room. Charles watched with wide eyes as the last one came in. Sunglasses on, jacket slung over one shoulder. McTaggert didn't seem as pleased. 

"Ah, if it isn't the dancing monkeys. Keep the flirting to a minimum, Lehnsherr. And hands must stay above the waist!" 

The man with the sunglasses simply smiled, but Charles was more transfixed with his arms, chest defined under the thin material of his vest top. 

"Of course, McTaggert," the man replied smoothly. It was not an American accent, nor a British one. In fact, it sounded more German, which sent a jolt through Charles' chest, down his spine, causing his knees to wobble. The dancer walked away as quickly as he'd entered, followed by the rest of his entourage. He was clearly the alpha in the group. Charles wasn't surprised. The man could certainly command a room. 

Not wishing to be caught eavesdropping, Charles stepped quickly away from the door, off the veranda and almost running back to his holiday house, his heart pounding in his chest. Never had he felt that way about someone before. Especially not a man. 

Though, a few hours after, as Charles was called for dinner, he realised that wasn't entirely true. There had been a few instances at school where he'd tripped or fell, because he was watching another student. A male student. Charles had almost forgotten it had happened. It was such a different feeling to the one he had experienced watching the German dancer. For the school kid, Charles must have been simply watching him because he caught Charles' eye, whereas the dancer had captivated him completely. Charles' brain was begging to know more, to find out more about the mysterious man. 

As he dressed for dinner, Charles hoped the dancer would be there, or at least, catch a glimpse of him. Charles began to imagine what the man would look like in a suit. If he was one of the professional dancers for the holiday, then he must teach ballroom as well as Latin. Charles closed his eyes, composing himself before stepping downstairs, adjusting his cuffs. Raven was wearing a dress which was almost too inappropriate for dinner, but their parents didn't mention it. They always had a soft spot for Raven. Charles wasn't jealous, but he didn't like it. 

At dinner, they were joined by Mr McTaggert and his granddaughter, Moira. She was pretty and smart, but Charles wasn't interested. He was trying not to look too hopeful that the mysterious dancer would appear, though there would be a dance afterwards. Charles just  _ knew  _ he would show himself there. He  _ had  _ to. Charles  _ had  _ to see him. 


	2. Hungry Eyes

The mysterious German dancer didn't appear at dinner, to Charles' disappointment. He was forced to make conversation with Mr McTaggert and Moira, though the latter was a lot friendlier and pleasanter than Charles was expecting. They got on well and Charles barely noticed the looks his parents were giving each other. In the midst of one of Moira's anecdotes they were interrupted as Mr McTaggert - who had left their table - stood up on the stage.

"I hope everyone is enjoying their time here so far, and it will become even more enjoyable tonight!" Mr McTaggert gave a wide smile, though it was slightly edged with concern. Charles could see it in his eyes. "I am pleased to announce that the dancing lessons will be held by Miss Emma Frost and Mr Erik Lehnsherr. They will be doing a demonstration at the dance tonight, and the lessons begin on Saturday." 

Erik Lehnsherr. That must be his name. The German dancer whose voice alone sent shivers down Charles' spine. He nearly dropped his fork as Mr McTaggert spoke, but managed to catch it before it slipped to the floor. Sharon Xavier gave him a look, hoping no one had noticed her son's mistake, but all eyes were on the stage. 

When the food and tables had been cleared away, the music began and several elderly couples began to dance. Charles stood at the edge of the dance floor with Moira by his side. He guessed she was hoping he would ask her to dance, but Charles wasn't in the mood. He could hardly think of anything else but of the imminent arrival of Erik Lehnsherr. 

It was clear to Charles when the dancing pair entered the room, as everyone began to cheer, and a large space was made in the centre of the floor. Charles was at the front and his breath almost left him completely as he saw Erik Lehnsherr for the first real time, in all his glory. Tall, slender, strong. Broad shoulders, ginger hair, stubble. Dark eyes, smirk, veined arms. The German dancer was technically sex on legs. 

And my my, those legs. Long and elegant, the man strode onto the floor, his shiny shoes twisting as he turned to take his partners hand. Emma Frost was beautiful and almost as tall, but Charles only had eyes for the male. The tight button-up shirt was popped to the centre of his chest, showing tanned collarbones and a smattering of freckles, obvious when the light hit them just right. 

Charles barely even let himself blink, not wanting to miss a thing. When Lehnsherr's hips swayed to the beat, Charles' jaw almost dropped straight to the floor. He couldn't take his eyes off the delicious man and his heterosexuality vanished completely as Lehnsherr licked his lips. The action felt sinful in a room full of elderly people, but the man didn't seem to care. When he and Emma Frost danced, it was like they were alone, no one else watching, nothing else happening apart from the music. Charles almost felt like he was watching a private moment, but couldn't tear his eyes away. 

Everyone else seemed transfixed by the performance and Charles didn't want it to end. He kept his feet planted firmly on the floor, for if he didn't he knew he would fall to his knees. The pair didn't seem to be stopping any time soon, the tango quickening in pace, along with Charles' heart rate. When it was over, the dancers seemed to snap out of a trance and quickly moved away from each other. Lehnsherr gently took the hands of an elderly woman and began dancing with her. Never before had Charles wanted to be an elderly woman before that moment.

Everyone had suddenly began to dance and Charles soon found himself swept up by Moira. He tried to keep his eyes on Erik but soon lost him in the wave of people. Not for the first time, Charles cursed his height. He managed a smile when dancing with Moira but once it was over, he excused himself to take some air. Lehnsherr had vanished completely and Charles gulped in fresh air from outside as he stepped onto the main veranda, feeling the cool breeze calm his heated face. 

Never before had Charles experienced such an intense feeling as he had watching the German dancer. The way he moved so smoothly had made Charles shudder. He closed his eyes, fingers tightening around the wooden railing. Charles unbuttoned the top of his collar, feeling his body relax as the tension was pulled from him. He could never let anyone know about it. No one could know about his secret desire, his secret longing for Erik Lehnsherr. 

"Charles, darling? Are you alright?" Sharon's voice broke him from his thoughts and Charles straightened up quickly, turning to face her. She gently cupped his cheek and Charles really hoped he wasn't still blushing. 

"I'm alright, thank you. It was very warm in there, I needed a little space. I might head to bed," Charles glanced at her. "Would you make my excuses to Moira?" 

Sharon smiled, clearly pleased her son had found such an attachment. "Of course, darling. I did say you would enjoy it here, didn't I?" she said, tilting her head in a knowing way. Really, she didn't know Charles at all. 

"Yes, and I am beginning to enjoy it," Charles gave a smile and received one in return. He  _ was  _ enjoying it, but not for the reason she believed. They spoke a few more words and Charles bid her goodnight before he stepped off the veranda, making his way back down the path towards their holiday house. As he reached the door, the sound of faint music caught his attention. He glanced past the house, seeing a 'staff only' sign on the small track leading beyond. 

Curiosity making him forget his place, Charles shrugged off his suit jacket, slung it over the swing seat on the porch and stepped back down. Walking towards the 'staff only' sign and past it gave Charles a thrill of disobedience which he had never felt before. He could see lights not far away, another large house similar to the main building in the holiday resort. As he neared the house, the music grew louder and louder. It certainly wasn't the type of sound playing in the dance earlier that evening. It was…modern rock n' roll. The kind of music his parents never let Charles listen to. 

As his hand reached for the doorknob, a voice made him start. Hank was walking up towards him, carrying several large watermelons under his arms. He wasn't wearing his bellboy uniform now, so he was in just a t-shirt and jeans. Charles felt extremely overdressed next to him, but Hank was more surprised to see him there in general. 

"You're not supposed to be over here!" Hank hissed quietly, as if anyone could hear them over the din inside the house. Charles hesitated. "I had to see what was going on," he admitted. 

Pressing his lips together, Hank considered it before setting one of the large watermelons in Charles' hands. "Carry this and stay quiet," Hank said, before he opened the door. 

Charles' eyes widened. 


	3. I Carried a Watermelon

The house was packed and the music came out in a flood, blasting Charles' eardrums. Hank hesitated only a moment before leading him inside, threading through the dancing crowd. Charles couldn't help but  _ stare _ . This was not the dancing Lehnsherr was teaching up at the house. This was…sexual. Extremely so. 

Edging through the dancing couples, Charles caught sight of people rolling their hips together in time to the music, slow grinds that Charles wasn't sure was even legal in a public space. No one seemed to care, however, only Charles. Even Hank looked subdued. Left and right, Charles spotted more couples, their positions and clothing compromising to say the least. 

"Put them here," Hank said, bringing Charles out of his daze. He only just remembered he was holding fruit in his hands. Setting it on the table, Charles turned to face the crowd, glad he was out of the way of the throng. Hank was the only one he recognised in the room, though a few he supposed were part of Lehnsherrs' group. 

"What exactly…are they doing?" Charles dared to ask Hank, who laughed. "What do you mean? They're dancing." 

Charles wasn't convinced. That wasn't dancing, that was almost having sex in public. He was beginning to get a little uncomfortable, feeling like a voyeur to a scene he didn't want to be in. Charles had grown up in quite a straight-laced family, and it startled him to see it so easily displayed. 

Charles was just about to say to Hank that he wanted to leave, and had pulled away from the table, when Erik Lehnsherr and Emma Frost entered the room, to cheers and hoots. The pair commanded the room like they did in the main house, though this time it really made Charles' legs go weak. 

Erik Lehnsherr was grinding his hips, those same hips that had twisted and flicked so easily in the tango. He was grinning as he danced with his partner, but his eyes were calculated, mirroring her every move and going with it to make a perfect routine. Charles felt rooted to the spot, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. 

Hank gave him a grin. "That's my cousin," he said, gesturing to Lehnsherr. Charles blinked, trying to register Hank's words, his eyes still locked on the German dancer.

"And who is she?" Charles managed to ask, nodding to his partner, Emma Frost. "They make a good couple."

Hank laughed like it was the funniest joke in the world. Charles simply stared at him. "No, they're not a couple. They've been friends since we were kids, though," he shrugged. 

Charles' gaze turned back to Lehnsherr, smiling clearly as he danced with his friend, the pair moving in perfect synchronisation. When the song ended, Lehnsherr headed closer to them and Charles quickly changed his expression to one of neutral curiosity. 

"Who's he? Guests aren't allowed here," Erik Lehnsherr's sharp accent almost made Charles flinch, but the man wasn't looking at him with any unpleasantness in his eyes. In fact, Charles might even have gone so far as to say Lehnsherr looked interested. 

"I carried a watermelon," was all Charles had to say. Erik didn't look impressed. Hank, who was clearly trying to escape from his cousin's eye, quickly spoke up. "Charles doesn't know how to dance like this." 

Erik raised an eyebrow and Charles' eyes widened. He sent Hank a look and the other boy simply shrugged. So he would be no help. To hide his embarrassment, Charles messed with his hair, which had fallen out of its style. "I mean, it's not like - not like I ever learnt," Charles stammered. 

"Come on, I'll show you," Erik's voice made Charles start. Was Lehnsherr about to show him how to - no. No he couldn't. They were both men! Without waiting for an answer, Erik began walking away, expecting Charles to follow. After a moment, he did. 

Erik led Charles to the centre of the floor where there was a gap just large enough for them both to stand. The music was still going on, a smooth, easy beat, and Charles' head was already moving. 

"Just start by moving your hips in a figure eight pattern," Lehnsherr instructed. Charles paused, embarrassment lacing his movements, but he jerkily attempted to move his hips. After a while, Erik nodded in approval. Charles realised with even more embarrassment that the whole time, Lehnsherr had been watching his hips. 

"Good. Just like that. Keep it going, make sure to move your whole body too," Erik continued, and  _ holy fuck _ his hands were suddenly on Charles' hips, directing his movements. Charles fought the urge to shudder. Erik's hands were warm, large and strong, firm in their hold. Charles began to move with him, but resisting just slightly, to feel the dancer's hands tighten around his body.

Charles hadn't realised he had closed his eyes, but when he opened them, he saw Lehnsherr's hips were mirroring his own and they were a few inches apart. His gaze flickered to Erik's face, but the man was determinedly watching his hips, moving with him. Charles began to relax in the German dancer's hold, feeling his body start to sway from side to side. He caught a flash of a smile across Lehnsherr's face and knew he was doing the right thing. 

"You've got it," Erik's voice was warm in its praise now and Charles smiled back. "Though, lose the bow tie. It ruins the effect," Erik added, his hands moving from Charles' hips to his throat. Without asking, Erik undid the bow tie and let it lay across Charles' shoulders. It helped Charles breathe a little easier, though it hitched in his throat every time he caught Erik's gaze. 

"How did you even get here, anyway?" Erik asked him, when he could feel Charles began to lag. He wasn't built for long periods of dancing. Pulling Charles to a stop, Erik led him over to a quieter part of the room, handing him a glass of punch. Charles sipped it gratefully, his skin hot from the dancing and having Lehnsherr in such close proximity. 

"I heard the music from my house and followed it. You aren't so hard to find as you think," Charles said, as soon as he could properly draw breath. Erik grinned, showing all his teeth. It was a strange, shark-like grin but it suited him. 

"The boss would kill us if he found out this was going on. Or, he'd kill me. He believes I am the ringleader in these affairs," Erik gestured to Hank. "He's the real organ-grinder. I'm just another one of the monkeys." 

Charles was surprised. Hank didn't look like someone who would organise a raunchy dance party, but he supposed he didn't really know the boy. "Do you come here every year?" Charles asked instead, drinking the last of his punch. Lehnsherr nodded. 

"Every year since it opened. Old McTaggert says he hates us, but we're the ones who bring in all the money," Erik cracked open a bottle of beer and took a long swig. Charles longed to try it, but knew his parents were bloodhounds when it came to alcohol. 

"You and your friend?" Charles asked, pointing to Emma Frost, who was still on the dance floor. Erik nodded, leaning back against the drinks table. "We work well together. Know each other's moves like clockwork." 

"A good relationship, then," Charles remarked quietly and Erik looked at him. "Are you jealous? She'd show you a few moves if you really wanted to know." 

Charles gave a nervous laugh, shaking his head, trying to hide his face behind his empty punch glass. "Not at all. Not her. I-I mean, I'm sure she is wonderful, but I've never danced like that before. Especially not with a woman."

Erik nodded, a thoughtful look in his eye. "You need the confidence," he took the glass from Charles' hand and set it down on the table, making Charles look up at him. "I will teach you how to dance like this, so you can impress any woman you choose to dance with." 

_ Dancing with Erik Lehnsherr? That was something no one could pass up.  _

"Alright then," Charles agreed, and they shook on it. What on earth was he getting himself into? 


	4. One, Two, Three, Fuck

"One, two - your footing is all wrong - three, four - it's backwards this time - five, six - stop standing on my shoes - seven, eight - stop!" 

Charles groaned, letting go of Erik's hands and stepping back. What he had hoped would be a dreamy time of being pressed up against the German dancer's body, had turned into a hell-loop of endless complaints and restarts. 

Erik was at his wits end. He pinched the bridge of his nose, went over to the record player and began the song again. "One more time. Hold my waist, walk backwards three steps, then to the right." 

Charles nodded, determined to get it right this time. Erik was threatening to give up if Charles hadn't completed several moves of the waltz, the samba and the tango. Since Charles was never planning on seducing a woman with his incredible dancing skills, he has no intention of getting through the lessons quickly. Erik's hand was always warm and strong in his own, making Charles's dream of it being wrapped around other parts of his body. 

No, he couldn't think like that, especially not while they were dancing together. Not while Erik's body was tantalisingly close to his own, the tight shirt he was wearing perfectly sculpting across his chest and arms. The thought made Charles lose his focus and he stepped out again, making Erik sigh. The dancer moved away to take a sip of water and Charles used the short time to pinch himself sharply in the crook of one elbow, trying to focus once more. 

"I'm beginning to think you're a lost cause," Erik said, his words making Charles go cold. He stepped forward quickly, hand reaching for the record player as Erik moved to switch it off. 

"No! Just…" Charles hesitated, feeling Erik's eyes on his. Those gorgeous eyes that he'd stared into, unable to look away when they'd waltzed. That was the only dance he'd gotten right. "Let me try something myself." 

Looking through the record stack, Charles found what he was looking for and slotted it onto the machine. Carefully putting the needle down, he waited for it to start. Erik watched him expectantly, and once the music began, Charles began to move his hips. He couldn't figure out the complicated dances Erik was teaching him, but he certainly could do this. 

"Charles-" Erik began, about to stop him, but Charles was getting into the flow of the song now, and Erik couldn't look away. Charles rolled his hips in a figure eight pattern, smooth now from practice. Since that night first dancing with Erik three days ago, Charles had practiced his dancing every time he was alone in his room. He didn't have music, but if he closed his eyes he could hear the song in his mind, feel Erik's hands on his hips and he could move like it was a natural instinct. 

Continuing to move his hips in time to the slow, melodious beat, Charles lifted his eyes and his breath hitched in his throat when he saw Erik's gaze. Hungry, almost predatory as he gazed at Charles. The dancer stepped forward and Charles was almost expecting their lips to meet, but Erik was not so eager. His hands instead found Charles' hips once more, moving himself a few inches away, mirroring Charles. 

"Keep your eyes on me," Erik murmured and Charles' heart almost stopped. He tilted his chin up just slightly and their eyes locked together, blue on green. Erik held his gaze as he took one more step forward, their hips and thighs brushing together. Charles breathed out a small gasp, unable to help it. Erik's body heat was radiating off him, making the air hot around them. 

"Move back three steps, then to the right," Erik murmured again, moving with Charles and suddenly he could do it. Charles was dancing. Properly. His body pressed firmly against Erik's, chest to chest. There was no one leading now, no male in this dance move. It was just Charles and Erik, linked together by mind and body. Charles barely let himself blink as he gazed into Erik's emerald eyes, framed by long lashes. 

They were awoken from the trance by the song fading out to a stop and Erik slowly pulled himself away. Charles felt the loss in his chest and shifted, almost to pull Erik closer again, but he didn't. 

"Well," Erik said, taking the record off the player and slotting it back into its sleeve. "That wasn't terrible." In Erik's language, that was a compliment. Charles beamed. 

"Though it wasn't the kind of dancing I thought you wanted to learn," Erik's eyes glanced back at him and Charles gave a small shrug, trying to act innocent, though he knew he wasn't at all innocent, especially when it came to that sort of dancing. 

"I prefer it to the more, er, formal kind," Charles said, trying to sound casual. He hoped Erik hadn't figured out that he'd been practicing. That would be extremely embarrassing. 

"Would you like to try it again? I could show you a few more moves to add to it," Erik offered. Charles' eyes lit up and he stepped forward, excitement making him overly eager. 

"Oh! Yes, I'd like that very much," Charles' cheeks turned pink and Erik's lips curved up in a slight, wry smile that warmed Charles' insides. 

"Alright then, from the top," Erik picked a new song and took his place against Charles. The dancer didn't seem to mind the closeness of their bodies. Though, he was a professional. Dancing with men or women probably didn't matter to him, Charles supposed. Either way, he was never going to say no to Erik's hands as they tightened around his hips. Charles' own hands slid up Erik's arms to rest on his shoulders, the height difference making Charles shiver. He never thought he would be this desperate for someone, let alone a man. 

When they began again, it was clear that Erik wasn't holding anything back this time. His eyes were dark as Charles stared into them, hips pressing firmly against Charles', hiding nothing. The friction created by their movements caused Charles to bite back a whimper, his fingertips digging into Erik's broad shoulders. The man must have figured it out by now, or else he was extremely oblivious to what he was doing to Charles.

The heat their bodies caused was almost unbearable and when the song ended, Charles pulled away, almost gasping for breath. He gulped down water from his bottle on the bench and dared a glance in the long mirror wall. He looked a wreck. Face flushed, hair messy, lips red and swollen from biting them. Upon closer inspection, Charles realised one of his shirt buttons had been unpopped, revealing more of his pale chest. He hadn't done that. 

His eyes flickered to Erik in the mirror, who was intently staring back at him, his own lips slightly parted, stood frozen to his spot in the middle of the room. Slowly turning to face him, Charles only had time to gasp as he was pushed back against the cold mirrors, Erik's hot body pressing against his own. As Erik's tongue slid into Charles' mouth, Charles forgot the rest of the world existed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added a few chapters to the count because I might write SMUTTTT if I'm brave enough.
> 
> Thanks for sticking with this story so far, I hope you're enjoying it, and we finally get some cherik action!


	5. Keeping Up Appearances

_ Two mouths, four hands, two bodies, one mind. Charles and Erik were one, pressed together between the sheets. Erik's hand reached out and grasped for Charles', the air hot around them as gasps filled the dark room.  _

_ "Charles!" Erik had cried out first and Charles quickly followed suit, his face tucking against the dancer's neck. As they breathed heavily, Charles' arm tightened around Erik's back, keeping him close.  _

_ "Your parents still don't know, do they?" Erik managed, once he had recovered somewhat. Charles gave a small laugh, rolling onto his side, keeping Erik against him.  _

_ "Of course not. They would murder you," he replied, still a little breathless. He didn't have as much stamina as Erik. The man snorted, wrapping one arm around Charles' waist, tugging them so their bodies rested together comfortably. "Good thing they will never know."  _

"Charles… CHARLES!" 

Charles jumped, his daydream disappearing from his mind with a pop as his book slid to the floor from his lap. He bent down to pick it up, hoping his cheeks weren't pink. Now onto week three of staying at the Holiday camp and Charles and Erik were working closer than ever. Charles spent an hour or so every day with him, telling his parents he had extra dancing lessons. He actually  _ did _ , but the lessons involved much more than just the tango. 

They slept together. Many times, in fact. It was almost like Erik couldn't keep his hands off Charles, now he knew Charles felt the same way. When they eventually left the bed, Erik showed Charles how to dance. The proper, traditional way, as well as the modern way. The lessons went much smoother now Charles wanted to learn properly, having all the perks of being pressed up against Erik's body. 

"Yes, Raven?" Charles replied, a little wearily. He'd spent the morning in Erik's little house, and most of the afternoon in one of the practice rooms. He wanted to go to bed, but Raven looked all dressed up. Clearly she wanted to go to the dance. Charles had been avoiding them for the past few days, feigning exhaustion. He didn't want his feelings for Erik to show in public. 

"Mum and dad are saying you  _ have  _ to come to the dance tonight," Raven shrugged, examining her nails. Charles groaned. He got to his feet, walking past her, up to his room. Going to change, he paused for a moment in front of the mirror. A small line of red marks were dotted from his Adam's apple to the centre of his chest. Charles smiled and touched them gently, before pulling on a clean shirt. Erik's sharp teeth certainly left their mark. 

He ignored Raven's shouts for him to hurry up and carefully dressed in a blue suit, one of only two. Raven had taken her entire wardrobe of dresses from home, whereas Charles clearly hadn't thought that far ahead. Tucking in his shirt, he caught sight of a rumpled item of clothing by his pillow. Picking it up, he realised it was one of Erik's vest tops. He'd stolen it while leaving Erik's house one night, a few days before. It smelt like him and Charles had fallen asleep with it pressed against him for comfort. He was falling fast for the German dancer but couldn't do anything to stop it. Charles eventually met up with his parents and they walked up to the main house together, Raven dancing ahead in hopes of seeing Hank. 

The dance was agony. Charles was stood next to Moira the whole time, which might have been bearable had she not been offering to dance with him every time a new song came on. He felt sorry for the girl, who clearly liked him, but Charles couldn't bat for her side if he was threatened to by his parents, which usually made him do anything. 

When Erik appeared, he danced gorgeously with Emma, and then with several other female guests. Of course he couldn't dance with Charles, but he was fidgeting every time he saw a woman look Erik's way and eye him appreciatively. Moira must have caught his gaze because she then spoke up. 

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" 

Charles blinked, then moved his eyes across slightly to see Emma Frost hanging off Erik's arm. He hurried to collect himself. "Oh, yes. Very pretty. Nice…hair."

Moira laughed and they both watched Emma Frost dance. She was good, but to Charles, she had nothing on Erik's raw animal magnetism. He commanded the room as soon as he stepped in, every head turned to watch him. Charles felt extremely lucky that he was the only one who got to see that glorious body up close and personal. 

Charles didn't want to dance and soon Moira got the message. She walked away, over to another boy around their age who was sitting by the drinks table and looking morose. Charles didn't hang around much longer. Erik had vanished and Charles felt no desire to stay. He was on his way back down towards his house, feeling the soft summer breeze ruffle his hair, when two arms tightened around his middle and he squeaked in surprise. 

"Miss me?" Erik's low voice growled playfully in his ear and Charles, once over his fright, leant back into him with a beam of his own. 

"Of course I missed you, you were ignoring me all night," Charles replied, turning to face him. Their hands automatically linked together, now they knew no one was around. Erik's face was so incredibly open and inviting when they were alone. Charles felt privileged to know what Erik looked like when he was truly relaxed and happy. 

"I had to, you know I did. We need to keep up appearances," Erik said, linking their fingers together. They continued to walk back towards the houses but Erik was slowly steering them closer to his own. 

"By appearances, you mean 'not being close in public'?" Charles gave him a look and gestured between them at their closeness. Erik laughed and tugged Charles close, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "We're alone, Charles. No need to worry now." 


End file.
